


Convergence at Last

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Times, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 10:56:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/797883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair finally puts it all together, and is taken by surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Convergence at Last

## Convergence at Last

#### by krossero

Author's website: <http://krossero.livejournal.com>  
  
Thank you, Mab, for being my beta once again! You're always a great help. *smooch*  
  
This story is a sequel to: 

* * *

Blair breathed a deep sigh of relief as he stepped into the loft, shedding his coat and dropping his keys beside the basket. It was great to finally be home, after a long two days; jumping between his classes and study groups at the University, and pulling a couple of long shifts on a case with Jim at the station had really wiped him out. Jim was still there, finishing up the last of his paperwork, since, amazingly, he'd waved away Blair's offer of help. He'd sent Blair home as soon as his portion of the work was complete, and Blair had gone gratefully, if a little guiltily. But now that he was here, he'd make it up to Jim, and have dinner ready. First things first, though; he desperately needed a shower. 

As he stood worshipfully under the hot, pouring water, Blair pondered his relationship with Jim, something he'd been doing a lot more often lately. They'd been friends for more than three years now, and best friends for most of that time. They had a comfortable routine, and rarely tired of each other's company, even though they did practically everything together. 

The whole thing was strange for Blair; he'd never had such a close relationship with anyone. Not even with his mother Naomi, who usually spent most of her time in foreign countries, experiencing the wonders of the world. He'd never really minded the constant flow of people through his life--though he was sometimes lonely from the lack of any substantial relationships, he'd made a lot of great friends along the way. 

It was different with Jim, though. Somehow he _knew_ that he'd never be the same if he didn't have Jim by his side, and he wasn't sure what that meant. He had always been a very independent person, and it bothered him that he wasn't worried about defining himself as "Blair Sandburg" instead of as a part of "Jim and Blair". 

And it didn't help that lately, he'd had the niggling feeling that there was _something_ missing in his friendship with Jim, and he just couldn't put his finger on it. Whatever it was, though, it wasn't readily apparent, and Jim obviously didn't notice it. Normally, Blair would be all over the subject, trying to get Jim to talk about it, to see if he could figure it out. But this situation was somewhat complicated--what if he was wrong, and there was nothing missing or out of the ordinary, and it was just that Blair was changing, or over-analyzing things? He didn't want to make things weird between him and Jim, so he kept it to himself for now, and tried to work it out on his own. It wasn't really _that_ big of a deal, and it wasn't as if it could be anything too serious, right? 

* * *

Jim grinned as he opened the door to the loft. Blair had cooked dinner, and it smelled great. He was starving--paperwork took it right out of him every time. He could feel the day's tension begin to ease; it was always a relief to come home these days, whether or not there was food waiting. Blair's presence alone made the place a haven for Jim. 

"Hi, honey, I'm home!" Jim called out teasingly as he hung up his coat. 

Blair snickered softly from the kitchen. "Oh, good, darling, supper's almost ready!" 

"Smells great, Chief." Jim followed his nose into the kitchen, where Blair was pulling a meatloaf out of the oven. "Meatloaf? When'd you find the time for that?" 

"I stopped by to prepare it in between going to the University and the station earlier today, so all I had to do was pop it in the oven." Blair said with a quick grin in Jim's direction. 

Jim's stomach growled appreciatively, and he added his own compliments to its rumbling praise. "You're amazing, Chief. A prince among men." 

Blair snorted at that. "Admit it, man, you're just glad I didn't make anything with tofu in it this time." 

"Damn straight, Junior. Let's eat!" 

They sat down at the already-set table, and Jim dug in, taking a huge portion for himself, and pouring a glass of milk. In between bites of the piping hot food, he said, "It's such a relief that this whole Von Laue case is over with. It was getting to the point where I never thought we'd make an arrest." 

"I know what you mean, man. Between this and Rainier, I'm _so_ ready for a weekend of nothing but sleeping late and lazing on the couch." 

"Well, actually, Chief, Simon gave us Monday off, so I was thinking we should get out of Cascade for a while, maybe hang out in the woods, commune with nature." 

Blair's face lit up. "Oh, man, that sounds _perfect_! I just have one early morning class tomorrow, and then we can go! We should even be able to make it out before noon." 

Jim smiled at his friend's exuberance. He'd known that Blair would like the idea. "Great, then it's a plan. While you're at the University, I'll get everything together, then you can just call me when you're done, and I'll pick you up." 

"Sounds good. I'll pack a bag tonight, and you can bring it with you when you come get me." 

They continued to chat about their plans as they ate, and Jim's heart did a little jig at the thought of a weekend alone with Blair. It wasn't as if they weren't together all the time anyway, but there was something special about it being just the two of them. 

Oh, he knew nothing would happen. Blair wasn't interested in him--or any men--in that way, and Jim had resigned himself to the fact a long time ago. But still, he couldn't help the thrill he got from spending time with his friend, the man he secretly loved. 

* * *

Blair stretched and grinned as he hopped out of the truck, breathing deeply of the cool, crisp air. "Just smell that fresh air! It's really awesome to get out of the city--and it must be even better for you, huh?" 

Jim smiled, taking cleansing breaths of his own, and replied, "Yeah, it's great. It's like a vacation for my senses." 

"Hey, Jim, you've gotta tell me _everything_." Blair enthused, walking around the front of the truck. 

"What do you mean?" Jim asked with a half-distracted glance towards his partner as he began to unload their gear. 

"Everything you're sensing, man! The sounds, the smells-- can you see further out here, without all the smog?" 

Jim rolled his eyes and said exasperatedly, but not without a touch of amusement, "Chief, we're here to get away. To relax. No sentinel stuff, okay? Just you, me, and the trees." He didn't want Sandburg going into scientific mode, cataloging all of Jim's reactions, directing all of his attention towards him, and none of it to his own relaxation and enjoyment. 

"Aw, come on, Jim--this `sentinel stuff', as you put it, isn't work. It's who you are, and you can't keep trying to deny it. Every time you do, you just end up getting in trouble." 

Jim had to admit that Blair had a point. There had been a lot of times in his life that he'd tried to get out of being a sentinel, and he always ended up coming back to where he started--frustrated that he couldn't seem to get away from these senses, feeling like a freak, afraid of the responsibility that they meant for him. He wanted to protect the people of his city, and he knew he could do that better with his senses--but being a sentinel also meant that when he screwed up, he did it big time. The more weight on his shoulders, the easier things could come crashing down around him. 

But Jim wasn't stupid. He'd learned his lesson, eventually, after it had been practically pounded into him time after time. The senses didn't come with responsibility tagged on; they were there to _help_ him with the responsibility. No matter what, he'd always feel that it was his duty to protect others; it always _would_ be his duty. Sometimes he found it hard to accept that _he_ was the one with these senses, but he'd never been the "why me?" type, so once he'd finally admitted that the senses were there to stay, Jim had tried to make the best of them. 

He'd actually found it surprisingly easy. When you focused on the tough things in life, he realized, you were bound to see the worst. After that little bit of insight finally made its way into his brain, he started looking for the silver lining. He opened up his senses to enjoy things he'd never paid attention to before: fine artwork, a good meal, the miracle of a hot bath after a long day. All the things he normally took for granted were quickly becoming more and more appreciated. Every day comforts became the ultimate indulgence, and things he'd always taken pleasure in were suddenly a thousand times more enjoyable. He'd found a lot to be grateful for, from something as simple as the touch of a soft fabric to all of the wondrous complexities and variances of a sunrise over the ocean. And he noticed things, things about Blair, that he'd never quite picked up on before. 

He'd been attracted to Blair since they first met, but until a few months ago when he'd finally given his senses free rein, he hadn't really understood what a sensual delight his roommate was. His every sense found something in Blair to relish, and he often found himself indulging from a distance, when he was sure that Blair wouldn't find him out. The only sense he had to cut out completely was taste, and that was something he sorely missed; he'd _really_ love to taste Blair. 

Sight was the first thing that caught Jim's attention; where before, he'd simply admired Blair's physique, he now found even the most minute detail fascinating. The blue of Blair's eyes caught at him, pulling him in any time he looked too long or too deep. Blair's lips, quirked in a half-smile, made him want nothing more in life than to take them up in a long, sweet kiss. Jim's eyes traveled the tortuous paths of Blair's curls, imagining what it would be like to touch them, stroke them, feel them for more than a brief moment when he cuffed Blair on the head or tugged at his ponytail in passing. 

Touch was one sense that he was used to enjoying; he touched Blair all the time. A pat on the shoulder, an arm around his shoulders, and once in a while, both hands on Blair's face for a moment or two. He only wished that those touches could become caresses, that he could show Blair just how loved he was. 

Whenever he was alone at the loft these days, Jim used his sense of smell to try to connect to Blair, to feel like he was still near. He didn't fool himself by pretending that Blair always smelled like roses and baby's breath, but for the most part, his scent comforted Jim. Occasionally while in the bullpen, he'd catch a whiff of Blair's shampoo or his deodorant, or just _him_ , and he'd catch himself with a small, goofy smile on his face. Yeah, he had it bad. 

And he'd found that lately, more than ever, his hearing automatically locked on to the sound of Blair's heartbeat, and that he could use its steady rhythm to keep his senses on an even keel. The sounds of Blair's daily activities, set in a surprisingly predictable pattern for all the out-of-the-ordinary things that happened to them on an almost regular basis, steadied Jim, and made the loft into an actual home. As much as he loved using all of his other senses to hone in on Blair, hearing was his favorite, not coincidentally because it was the one sense that, if he concentrated enough, made it almost possible to believe that Blair was sleeping next to him at night instead of in the tiny room below his. 

Even now, as they walked up the gentle incline through the forest, Jim used the sound of Blair's heart to anchor himself, and let his senses extend, until he knew everything the forest had to offer. He was opened up to the extreme, and yet he didn't worry, felt only the deepest sense of peace. He began to speak quietly, hoping that Blair would understand what he was trying to say. Without ever speaking the actual words, he could tell his friend that he loved him, respected him, was grateful for him. He knew that it was important to Blair that Jim didn't feel like a freak; Blair wanted Jim to realize that these senses were a gift, and finally, he had. 

He described to Blair the quiet sounds of the woods; the stirring of the creatures, the wind through the trees, the nearly imperceptible sounds of the debris that littered the floor settling, being hastened towards decomposition by the newly growing life that emerged tentatively into the sunlight. He spoke of the scents of the woodland in the spring, so different from any other season; the scents were richer, fuller, more robust than at any other time. He could smell the newness of the wildflowers, surrounded and somehow complemented by the musty, damp scent of decomposing matter. He explained that even the air felt different here than in Cascade; it was somehow more yielding, more rounded--it lacked the harsh edges that the city gave it, and whisked gently around him as he walked. And he related the things that only he could see--endless colonies of ants and other insects going about their routine lives, carrying out their duties in a way that reminded him faintly of the Army. The colors around them were alternately soft and bold and bright; the underside of a new leaf, tender and light green-silver, contrasting with the rich, almost black hue of a rotting stump, and the vivid orange shade of the fungi growing on and around it. 

As he spoke, he felt all the residual tension of the last few weeks drain from him; this was a welcome respite from the insanity of the city, and it was simply nice to be able to talk about the positive input he was getting from his senses. As he came to the end of his recitation, he glanced at Blair, who was walking next to him. They were both moving slowly, for once in no rush to be anywhere or do anything, finally able to enjoy a beautiful day. Jim was amused to see that Blair's expression was still somewhat stunned, though Jim had been talking for at least ten minutes. He said lightly, "So, you see, Chief, I've finally been able to accept my senses. You're right; they are a part of who I am, and now I can see that they're not all that bad, as long as I can take the time to appreciate the good things." 

Blair turned his head towards Jim, and spoke quietly, jokingly, "Well, jeez, it sure took you long enough, buddy." His teasing words didn't really fit with the open expression of happiness, mingled with what looked almost like awe, that settled joyfully on his face. 

Jim replied, more seriously now, "Yeah, it did. And it never would have happened without you. I have you to thank for this." 

Blair blushed a little and stammered, "Aw, well, I'm sure that's not true. You would have gotten around to it eventually." 

"I don't think I would have; not that I would have even had the chance, if you weren't around. You've saved my ass as often as I've saved yours." Jim was finally opening up to Blair, and it felt like more of a relief than anything. He shouldn't have been surprised that when it was Blair that he was speaking to, his words didn't make him feel like he was leaving himself vulnerable to attack. He trusted Blair with his life, and more significantly, with his emotions. "I know I never really say it, Chief, but I do appreciate you and everything you do for me." 

At this, Blair's mouth dropped open, and he gaped like a fish, obviously trying and failing a few times to speak, until he finally said in a suspiciously rough voice, "Thanks, Jim. That--that means a lot." 

They both fell silent after that, Jim reveling in his feelings of peace as he walked beside Blair, who seemed somewhat thoughtful and subdued. Jim ignored the tingling hint of saline tang at his nose that suggested that Blair might be blinking back tears. 

They walked until they reached their camping site, where they unloaded their things, and began to set up. Blair stayed uncharacteristically quiet the whole time; in fact, Jim realized, he hadn't spoken much at all since Jim's words. He looked over in concern at his friend, who was currently unrolling his sleeping bag into his tent. Putting his bag in his tent, Jim spoke up. "I'm gonna head over to the river and swim a bit. Want to join me?" 

Blair's head popped out of the tent, and he smiled distractedly at Jim. "Nah, man, not right now. Enjoy yourself." 

Jim frowned. "Chief, is everything okay? I didn't make you feel uncomfortable or anything, did I?" 

Blair's eyes widened as he shook his head. "No, Jim, not at all. No, what you said--it was great. I've just been thinking, is all." 

Appeased, Jim grinned and quipped, "Well, don't blow a gasket there, Chief. We need your brain to function for a while yet." He laughed at the face Blair pulled, and walked down to the water nearby, already eagerly anticipating his swim. 

* * *

As Jim left, Blair continued unpacking what was left of his things, then moved to sit on a patch of soft grass nearby the tents. Leaning back, he shut his eyes and soaked in the heat from the sun. This was bliss. It had really been a great idea to come out here, and he was glad that Jim had thought of it. 

What Jim had said today had shocked and touched him; he didn't think Jim had ever said anything that nice to him before. In fact, he couldn't think of anyone who ever had. And it amazed him that Jim really did seem to have finally accepted his senses. He'd struggled with them for so long that it had seemed almost inevitable for him to never enjoy them. Blair knew it was partially the result of the lack of acceptance and support that Jim had received as a kid growing up, and he was overwhelmingly proud that Jim had finally let that go. 

And when Jim had said that _Blair_ was the reason for all that--it shook him. He'd always done his best to help Jim, but he certainly didn't think that he could be fully credited for any of Jim's triumphs. He definitely knew that he didn't deserve the look of utter gratitude that his friend had given him earlier; but it warmed him, nonetheless. He'd always wanted Jim's respect more than anything, and for once, it seemed that he had it. 

But still there was this feeling that he was missing something, and it was bugging the heck out of him. He couldn't figure out the source; if he didn't know better, he'd say it was Jim's sudden admission that had him so unsettled, but this had been going on for quite a while now. He'd tried everything he could think of to figure it out--he'd meditated about it, puzzled it over, slept on it. Nothing was helping, and as vague as this feeling was, he couldn't stop thinking that it was somehow important. If this was some sentinel thing that he was missing, it could hurt both of them if he figured it out too late. 

He was still lying in the sun, contemplating this pesky nuisance of a notion, when Jim returned from his swim. 

"Hey, Chief, you didn't fall asleep on me, didja?" 

"Yup. I'm comatose, in fact. And I'm not moving from this spot until Monday." 

Jim chuckled. "Good luck with that. I have it on very good authority that it's going to rain tonight." 

Blair groaned, cracking open an eye, and took in Jim's still-dripping form. "Seriously? The weather station said sun for the whole weekend!" 

Jim grinned down at him. "Yeah, I know, I was there. But the senses don't lie, Chief." 

Blair sat up quickly. "Your senses? You can predict the weather with your senses? Jim-- Jim, man, that's amazing! Do you know--" 

"Chief." 

"But, Jim--" 

"Come on, Chief. Vacation. V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N. And I can't _predict_ it, predict it, just sometimes I can tell when it's going to rain. The air's different. Okay?" 

"Hmmph. Way to ruin a guy's fun," Blair gave in with a smile. "So if you don't wanna do experiments--which I _so_ don't understand--then what _do_ you have planned, oh great weather man? And speaking of which, when is this rain supposed to start?" 

"I don't know exactly, but probably not until after it gets dark. And as for a plan, I don't have one. I just want to relax. Maybe we could go for a quick hike up to that ridge?" 

Blair looked to where Jim had gestured and rolled his eyes when he realized that he couldn't see what Jim was pointing at. "Um, Jim? You're the sentinel here. Let's just see how far we get before it starts to get dark." 

* * *

By the time they returned, it was dusky evening, and they were both starving. Jim started a fire while Blair opened up their packs and sorted through the various camping food items, picking out some easy-to-make dried soup. 

They ate slowly, taking their time, lounging by the fire. The night air was beginning to chill, and eventually even Blair could tell that rain would come. He hoped there wasn't too much; though their weekend wouldn't be _completely_ ruined, it was certainly more pleasant to stay out in the wilderness when it was warm and dry. They got enough rain in Cascade (there was a reason for the city's name) that they were relatively used to it, but Blair would always be a warm-weather kind of man. He snorted at that thought; it wasn't as if he'd be heading off to warm, distant lands anytime soon. The bemused look that Jim gave him made him chuckle outright, and soon both men were laughing out loud, filling the quiet forest with the sounds of their unrestrained delight. 

When they finally wound down, Jim sighed and stretched a bit, then said with a smile, "It feels great to laugh like that. It's been too long." 

Blair returned the smile. "Hey, Jim?" he asked as he settled into a happy quietude, replete and satisfied in stomach and soul. 

"Yeah, Chief?" Jim looked over at him from his seat near their little crackling campfire. 

"I'm...really glad that you don't hate being a sentinel anymore." Blair said with sincerity and gentle emotion in his voice. 

"So am I, Blair." And damn, there was that look of gratitude again, that nearly took Blair's breath away. He didn't think anyone had ever looked at him like that before, and that it was coming from _Jim_...he hastily looked away, unable to take much more of Jim's intense gaze. 

* * *

Jim's weather predicting skills were proven to be spot-on soon after they both retired to their respective tents when a soft rain began to fall, pattering gently on the taut tent walls, splashing in puddles of its own making, shushing through the leaves of the trees. Jim listened as the diminutive spring storm passed through, enjoying its music while it lasted, letting the silence that its conclusion heralded wash through him, lending an outer peace to rival the inner. 

He hadn't been this calm, this happy, in a long time. Spending time away from the constant rush and responsibility of the city was a blessing, because no matter how hard he tried, he could never really let his guard down, couldn't stop trying to protect his domain. It came with being a sentinel, he knew, but there was a big difference between guarding and protecting a primitive tribe, and keeping vigil over an entire modern-day city. 

That was why he needed Blair so badly, as a partner, if nothing else. He couldn't shoulder it alone, and whenever it became too much, Blair would step in and help him, either by forcing him to relax, or by occupying his mind with tests long enough for him to forget the protective urge that sometimes drove him half out of his mind. 

And here was yet another night when the sounds of a sleeping Blair were the background to his insomniac mind. He loved the man so much that it sometimes worried him. He'd gotten used to the fact that he needed Blair, but loving him was something different altogether, something that he knew wouldn't be returned, at least not in the way that he dreamed. He knew that Blair did need him, to a certain extent, and it gratified him in a twisted sort of way, because if Blair needed him, then it wasn't a one-sided thing; Jim wasn't keeping Blair with him out of total selfishness. A day might come when Blair decided that he didn't need Jim, but their friendship would keep him close. He'd never lose Blair, not completely. Or so he hoped. 

It was late at night like this, when Jim was lying awake listening to the sounds Blair made in his sleep, that the dark thoughts usually crept in. What if Blair _did_ leave him? What if someday Jim wouldn't be able to go to sleep hearing the soft cadence of Blair's heart, the steady whoosh of his breathing? What if one day friendship wasn't enough for Jim, if he'd need Blair's love more than he needed him as a friend? What if...? 

Tonight, Jim acknowledged the questions, then let them go. It was much easier to do so here, in the quiet that trailed the rain, with the placid forest life surrounding him, blanketing him in tranquility, than it was to try to do it at home, with his worries blanketing him at every turn, smothering him. He knew that someday these questions might be valid, but not tonight. Tonight, he lapped up the temporary cease to his anxiety that this little vacation was giving him, and let Blair's rhythms roll through him, a soothing chorus that followed him into his dreams. 

* * *

Blair awoke slowly, floating lazily upwards from a smoky nirvana, his dreams fading leisurely into reality, the layers of imagined landscapes gradually sluicing out of his mind and escaping into the ether of the morning. His eyes still closed, he tried to grasp the images that drifted by, but it was as effective as trying to hold onto any ethereal thing. After a moment, he sighed sleepily and stretched, opening his eyes to bright sunlight that chased the last remnants of the dream from his mind. 

Outside the tent, he could hear Jim moving about, and he smiled, content to lie there listening to his friend's actions. At least until the coffee was ready, of course. 

"Get your butt out here, Chief, I know you're up." 

Blair snorted and grinned; it shouldn't surprise him after all this time that he couldn't get anything past the man. He scrambled around for his clothes, and, half-bent in his small tent, dragged on yesterday's jeans. 

"Morning, Jim," he said over his shoulder as he ambled over to a nearby bush to relieve himself. "How'd you sleep?" 

"Pretty well, how about you? The rain didn't bother you too much, did it?" Jim asked as Blair returned, hands held out pleadingly for sustenance in the form of caffeine. 

"Nah, man, I slept like a baby, `til you woke me up. Gimme some of that." 

Jim held up a thermos of hot coffee, just out of Blair's reach. "I didn't wake you up. In fact, if you had slept much longer, we'd be missing out on the best of the fishing." 

Blair rolled his eyes and stretched up on tippy-toes, trying to nab the precious life-giving brew. "Okay, okay, okay! You didn't wake me up, if we don't catch a thing it's all my fault, I owe my soul to you, just give me the damn coffee!" 

Jim chuckled and handed it over, giving Blair a quick tug on his hair with his free hand. "You've got some serious bed-head going on here, Chief. Even if we _do_ get going, I've gotta warn you, the fish might not bite--they could be scared off by this mop of yours." 

Blair gave Jim a mock-glare over the rim of the thermos, casually flipping him off as he turned to get the tackle box and rods. 

"I saw that." 

Blair didn't even bother to roll his eyes; the coffee was appealing to his better nature. "Of course you did, Jim. If you hadn't noticed, you happen to have a distinct advantage in that area." The happy sigh he gave after this scathing remark might have dulled it a little, but he didn't really mind. 

In next to no time, they'd eaten and dressed, and were ready to begin their day of fishing and fun. Blair took his pole from Jim, and leaving Jim with the tackle, trotted briskly ahead, trying to strip away the final vestiges of sleep from his body and mind. 

The rain had stopped at some point last night, and the clouds were gone, giving the weak morning sun a chance to lighten their surroundings, delicately gilding the still-wet leaves on the trees with its sublime touch. The air seemed fresher than it had yesterday, crisper and more filling, a light, sweet concoction that tickled the nose and painted its way down into the lungs. A gentle breeze ruffled Blair's hair, lifting and caressing it gently as he walked. 

He quickly reached the river, with Jim trailing not too far behind. He put down his fishing pole for a moment, and splashed into the cold, clean, sparkling flow, savoring its bite against his legs. He squatted down briefly, cupping the water in his hands, just to marvel at its clarity. He smiled widely and turned towards Jim, who was just now coming up behind him with a rather amused look on his face. 

"It's great out here, isn't it, Jim?" 

Jim shook his head fondly and said to Blair, who was currently ankle-deep in the freezing mountain water, "Yeah, Chief, it is, but for someone who hates the cold and the wet, you're doing a pretty good impression of a fish." 

Blair's grin grew as he replied, "It's cold, but it's worth it. I should have gone swimming with you yesterday when I had the chance. Do you think it'll rain again?" 

Jim rolled his eyes heavenwards. "What am I now, your personal weather forecaster?" 

Blair looked a bit sheepish, but held out all the same, squelching his way towards Jim at the riverbank as he queried, "Well? If it doesn't rain, we can go in the afternoon when it warms up." 

"No, I think the rain's over for now," Jim pronounced, unpacking the tackle box and selecting what he needed. "So, yeah, we could go for a swim. But first--" 

"We fish!" Blair finished with a laugh. 

* * *

They'd been at it for almost an hour now, and hadn't had much luck yet. Jim had hooked one decent-sized fish, which he`d tossed back in hopes of something better, but all the rest on either of their parts hadn't been worth keeping. It didn't matter all that much; they didn't need the fish, since they had enough food with them to last them until Monday. They simply enjoyed the day and each other's company. 

Blair stood next to Jim in the shallow river's edge, both of them now wearing their galoshes to keep their feet from freezing off completely. The sun had risen enough that its beams warmed their backs, and the rolling water sent shards of light hurtling in every direction. The glints of radiance shimmered and danced and dazzled in their eyes, leaving little-blue black spots as afterimages in their wake, not enough to blind, but plenty to lend a surreal quality to the morning. 

Blair found himself musing about the first time he'd ever done this. Jim had taught him patiently that day, though he really hadn't needed all that much of the virtue, since Blair had almost immediately landed a beauty of a fish. They could definitely use some of that beginner's luck now, though he could do without the events that had transpired soon thereafter. Somehow, they'd managed to pick the one fishing spot where they could get into trouble, and Jim had heard the sound of weapon fire. They'd ended up finagling their way into a major poaching case, and both men had almost died more than once. 

Blair grinned wryly to himself. There was never a dull moment with Jim. In fact, Blair had seen more action and violence in his past three years with Jim and the Cascade P.D. than he had ever expected to in his entire life. Terrorist bombers, insane criminals, serial killers, gang wars, rogue CIA agents, gunrunners, thieves, and murderers galore, all in his first year with Jim. He shuddered. Looking at it that way, his time with Jim seemed pretty damn negative, and negativity, along with violence, was something Blair had never allowed into his life pre-Jim. It was no wonder that Naomi disapproved of his friendship and partnership with Jim. She was the original flower child, a firm believer in karma and vibes and all things spiritual. And Blair was her son. He was a pacifist at heart, and yet, in the past few years he'd not only held a gun, he'd _used_ one. He'd done his best to help Jim to take down the bad guys, every time. 

He was his mother's son in more ways than one, though. Like Naomi, it had always been his inclination to high-tail it whenever the going got rough. He'd stayed at Rainier because it was his career, his future, and it had never really been all that difficult. Though in most situations, he stuck it out better than his mother did, in relationships, he'd always followed her lead and had never gotten too close. Even with Maya, as much as it had hurt to see her go, he'd felt a strange sort of relief at their parting. 

And that brought up the question of why he was still here with Jim. When he'd run out on some of the most serious things in his life, when it seemed almost genetically pre-determined that he never last in a long-term relationship, why had he stuck around for more than three years, risking his life on a regular basis, living with a _cop_ who was just about as different from him as a person could be? 

He mulled the matter over for a while as he stood knee-deep in the river, surrounded by the quiet contentment of a spring day in the middle of nowhere, away from the usual chaos of daily life. It wasn't, for all its seeming import, a question that really bothered him, because he, like the forest, was peaceful. Spending his time here with Jim, he was happy. 

And that, he supposed, was his answer. 

With Jim, he was happy. Yes, he'd changed over the years, but people always changed, it was a part of life. He'd learned more about life from hanging around Jim than he ever could have in the halls of Rainier. He'd seen and experienced some unbelievable things, not the least of which was his friendship with Jim. They were so different, and yet they worked and played and lived well together. So, he stayed because of Jim. Because of Jim's senses, because of their friendship, because... 

"Oh, _shit_!" The rod nearly dropped from his suddenly insensate fingers, numbed by shock. 

"What?" Jim's eyes immediately went out to the river, then, seeing no fish, flicked around, searching for danger before finally resting on Blair. "What is it, Chief?" 

The realization had come as such a shock to Blair, a lightning bolt through the former serenity of his mind, that he answered without thinking, "I'm in love with you." 

* * *

Time came to a standstill, or so it seemed to Blair, and he froze, paralyzed by his own words. He could almost _see_ them floating in front of him, and had the insane urge to reach out and snatch them back. Then his world snapped back into focus, and he could breathe again. 

As time began to behave once more, he looked up at Jim, who seemed as stunned by his declaration as he had been. It struck Blair suddenly that today would be the day that he'd pay for his habit of opening his big fat mouth before he thought. 

He swallowed dryly and gave a passing thought to just how _big_ Jim was, before he started backing away slowly, skidding and sliding over the round wet rocks, babbling an apology as he went. "Oh, hey man, um, sorry about that--you know how sometimes my mouth works before my brain, I _really_ didn't mean to blurt it out like that, it's just that I just realized, and I never would have--oof!" 

The stream of half-panicked chatter was cut off as he lost his footing and went down with a splash into the icy shallows, and suddenly Jim was there, lifting him out of the water. Once he was standing firmly, he braced himself for the fist he suspected was headed his way. When nothing happened, he chanced a look at Jim. 

The detective didn't _seem_ angry, and finally spoke with a snort, "Did you think I was going to flip out and attack you or something?" 

Blair's eyes widened. Jim sounded _amused_. "Well..." He hadn't known exactly _what_ to expect, but this certainly wasn't among the scenarios that had flitted through his mind in the past minute. 

He watched, mind not quite up-to-speed as of yet, as Jim's expression grew serious. "Blair, you've got to know that I'd never hurt you." 

"Okay, Jim," he answered softly. He supposed that he _did_ know that, but this whole thing had taken him by surprise, and his emotions had gone to hell in a hand basket. He was still reeling from his discovery, and all the negative implications that it might have on his future friendship with Jim were just beginning to hit him. 

He looked away from Jim, who, for some reason, was still resting his hands on Blair's shoulders, and focused on his mile-a-minute thoughts. How would this change things between them? Could they possibly keep their friendship intact, with Blair loving Jim as he did? 

Because there was no doubt in his mind that he _did_ love Jim. The knowledge fit like a piece of a puzzle within him, _snicking_ into place, filling in that hollow place inside him where his uncertainty had been, making complete sense in a hind-sighted kind of way. He wondered how he'd missed it before; it felt like something that shouldn't have come as a surprise, like it had been going on for a while. He cast his mind about wildly, trying to think back and figure out _when_ this had happened, but he realized belatedly that his friend had just spoken to him. 

He peered up at Jim, still not quite meeting his eyes, and asked, "What'd you say?" 

Jim's hands tightened on his shoulders almost imperceptibly as he repeated firmly, "Did you mean it?" 

Blair didn't have to ask what Jim meant, but he hesitated before replying. He wasn't sure how to answer Jim's question; what did he want to hear? Was he trying to give Blair an out, so that they could pretend that he'd never said anything? Should he come back with some glib remark, and if he did, would it be enough to keep things normal between them? And most importantly, _could_ he deny what he knew full well to be the truth? 

Seeing no clues in Jim's eyes, he sighed and felt himself slump a little as he resigned himself to telling the truth, no matter what it meant for their friendship. "Yeah, Jim, I meant it," he said quietly, continuing almost wistfully, "That can't be _too_ awful of a thing, can it?" 

To his utter disbelief, Jim pulled him into a tight hug. "It's not awful, Chief. Not at all. You have no idea how long I've wished you'd say that to me." 

Blair drew back slowly. "Jim?" he queried, wholly uncertain of just what the _hell_ was going on here, trying his hardest to not even dare to hope that Jim could possibly mean... 

"I love you, Blair." 

And oh _god_ , there they were--the words he'd never have thought Jim would say to him, and they were making him feel weak, as if he were a big Inflatable Blair and the air was slowly whooshing out of him, starting at the knees. 

"Oh, well, that's good then," he said a little breathlessly, leaning part of his weight on Jim, hoping he didn't mind. He'd have supported himself if he could, but the successive shocks to his brain were taking their toll, and he couldn't entirely trust his suddenly unsteady legs. 

Jim didn't seem to care in the slightest; he gently tugged Blair back into the circle of his arms, which was quickly becoming number one on Blair's list of places to be in at all times. Though he couldn't see it, he could hear the smile in Jim's voice as he said, "Come on, we should get you out of those clothes now." 

Blair's heart abruptly decided to take a quick sojourn into his throat and back again, then began to plot its escape from his chest by doing backflips, cartwheels, and other various calisthenics that Blair was pretty sure hearts weren't supposed to do. It wasn't as if he'd never given Sex With Jim a passing thought; that was hard to avoid, the way the man walked around the loft in an almost constant state of half-nakedness. But he'd never put it into this context, had never thought of _making love_ with Jim. A shudder went through him as another body part began to take interest in the proceedings. 

He wasn't surprised to find that his voice was slightly husky when he said, withdrawing just enough to look at Jim, "That sounds like a pretty damn good idea to me." 

Incredibly, Jim _blushed_ , and stammered, "No, I meant--well, yeah, but--um, I meant--your clothes are drenched, Chief!" 

Blair looked down and noticed for the first time that Jim was right; and he was rather cold, too, now that he thought about it. He shrugged, and added with a smile, "That's easily taken care of, unless--" he broke off, suddenly unsure. "Unless you didn't want to..." 

"No, no--Blair, that's not it at all! It's just...I want to take this at your speed. I mean, you've never been with a guy, right? I just don't want to rush things." 

Blair grinned. Trust Jim to be chivalrous when all Blair wanted to do was get naked with him _right now_. He wiggled around a bit until Jim released his arms, and said, "My pace, huh? Okay," using his new freedom, he reached up and guided Jim down to his level, whispering from only a few millimeters away, "How's this?" 

He inclined his head enough to reach across the scant distance between their lips, and tenderly covered Jim's mouth with his own. He sighed happily and drew back for a second before moving in again, repeating the motion until Jim began to respond ardently. The kisses deepened, and soon he was granted access into the hot interior of Jim's mouth, the dark wet heat quickly becoming an addiction. 

Eventually, Jim retreated minutely, resting his forehead on Blair's curls. "Chief, we're standing in the middle of the river making out." 

Undeterred by Jim's withdrawal, Blair continued his caresses, skimming down Jim's jawline and lingering at the pulse point on his beloved's throat. At Jim's words, he smiled and murmured, "Noticed that, did you? I bet you'd make a good detective." 

Jim chuckled and returned briefly to Blair's lips before asking, "What do you say we bring this back to the camp, hmm?" 

Blair took a deep breath and hugged Jim close before nodding and drawing away. "Sounds like a plan." 

They quickly gathered their scattered fishing equipment and headed back towards their campsite, walking side-by-side. The usually quick return trip took much longer this time, as they stopped every so often to exchange increasingly hot kisses. 

By the time they reached their temporary home-away-from-home, Blair's clothes were only slightly damp. After dropping his pole, he kicked off his galoshes and began to pull off the first of his shirts, until Jim interrupted him, wrapping him up in strong arms from behind. 

"No, let me," he whispered hotly in Blair's ear, causing a bout of miniature seismic activity in Blair, who couldn't hide a tremor at the words. He turned around, dropping his arms to his sides, and kissed Jim once more before relinquishing control of the clothing situation. 

Jim gave him one last reminder before beginning. "If I do anything you don't like, or we're moving too fast, just let me know, okay?" He waited for Blair's breathy agreement, then began to pull the layers of shirts off Blair, one by one. With each shirt removed, Jim gave him another deep kiss, until by the time the third layer was finally peeled from his body, Blair was fully aroused and eager to see some bare skin on Jim. He paused, groaning, as Jim started to kiss his way down Blair's neck, and tugged at the shirt Jim was wearing until he got the hint and pulled it off, casually discarding it on a nearby bush. 

Blair ran his hands teasingly up and down Jim's bare back, and started his own exploration of Jim's body, caressing the vast expanses of now-exposed skin. His fingers glided over Jim's shoulders and onto his broad, smooth chest, and he took note of the shiver that he produced when he lightly dragged his fingertips over a nipple. 

All the while, Jim was doing amazing things to him, and it was nearly all he could do to keep from turning into a quivering mass of jelly worshiping at Jim's feet. Jim tongued a nipple, and Blair bit back a cry at the jolt of unexpected pleasure that coursed through his body. Jim prolonged the ecstasy by moving to the other waiting bud, alternating between the two until Blair truly _was_ quivering, then moved slowly down Blair's body, kissing and licking at ribs and stomach muscles. It seemed to Blair that as Jim worked his way along Blair's frame, he was sniffing, inhaling, and it occurred to him that Jim must be using his senses, imprinting Blair's scent in his mind. 

A swelling rush of tenderness and arousal filled him, and he gently hauled Jim up for another kiss. He tugged him into a close embrace for a moment, gasping at the skin-on-skin contact, then reluctantly separated, saying, "Hold on just a second." At Jim's confused, ready-to-be-hurt expression, he squeezed Jim's hand in his and said, "It's okay; just wait a second, all right?" 

Jim nodded, breathing rather quickly, and Blair grinned and ducked into his tent, grabbing his sleeping bag and dragging it outside. When Jim saw what he was doing, his countenance cleared, and he helped Blair to spread it out on a relatively soft patch of soil. 

Blair promptly sat on the blanket, patting the spot next to him in invitation. As Jim moved to sit beside him, he felt a flutter of nervous anticipation in his belly, but it only served to heighten his arousal. He turned to Jim, smiling, letting the love he felt overflow and spill out, bubbling and frothing, into the space between them. The look he got in return spoke of new love and love long-standing, of hopes fulfilled and dreams in the making. He grasped Jim's hand and declared again, relishing the way his soul rang with the truth of the words, "I love you, Jim." 

Jim's eyes darkened, and he forbore to speak, instead moving so that he was sitting behind Blair, then maneuvering him back so that he was leaning on Jim's chest. Blair sighed contentedly, and they sat that way for a while, Jim holding Blair close, playing lightly with his hair, twining it around his fingers. What had previously been a furious blaze of lust gradually settled into a steady thrum of desire, pervading their bodies with a golden warmth that was outwardly illustrated by the patterns of gilded light and cool shadow that dappled their forms. 

Eventually, Jim shifted, and began to press warm kisses onto the back of Blair's neck. Blair tilted his head to give Jim better access, and reached back to take Jim's hands in his own. Languidly, Jim moved around to Blair's front, pushing him gently backward until he rested comfortably on the sleeping bag. Blair watched with growing hunger as Jim positioned himself on top of Blair, and lifted his hips obligingly when Jim began to tug at his pants. With quick motions, Jim divested him of his jeans and briefs, leaving Blair deliciously exposed to his eager gaze. Jim's eyes seemed to drink in the contours of Blair's naked body, lingering on his rigid cock, driving Blair close to madness with the need for Jim to just _touch_ already! 

Jim answered Blair's unspoken demand by reaching out and taking Blair's cock in his hand, languorously stroking its length, then slowly--maddeningly, infuriatingly, _devilishly_ slowly--bending down to pass his tongue over the tip. Blair jerked his hips up, trying to get more of that marvelous hot-wet-good sensation, but Jim pushed him down affectionately with his free hand, tracing soothing circles, telling him wordlessly to be patient. 

He didn't make Blair wait long; in the next instant, he removed his hand and took Blair in his mouth as deep as he could, using his hands to once more hold Blair down. Nevertheless, Blair jerked involuntarily, almost unable to hold on through the wave of liquid-fire pleasure that surged within him. Jim drew his head back and thrust down once again, then repeated the motion until finally pulling away completely, undoubtedly sensing that Blair was about to come. 

Blair couldn't stifle a groan of distress as Jim's mouth retreated, and he lifted his head long enough to see Jim hurriedly pulling off the rest of his clothing, shoving it roughly aside before he clambered up and over Blair's body, drawing him into another hot kiss before aligning their cocks and beginning to thrust. 

Blair joined him, driving upwards in a frantic urge for more pressure, more friction, increasing the pace as he rushed headlong towards completion, barely hearing Jim's shout over the pounding of blood in his ears as he finally came. 

* * *

Jim laid in luxurious repose, holding Blair's still-dozing form close. The mid-afternoon sun bathed him in radiant warmth, and he was more tranquil than he had been in years. His mind drifted, and he let his senses do the same, unafraid of zoning with Blair closer to him than he ever had been before. He picked up snippets of woodland voices, let his sight expand upon the cerulean blue of the sky, breathed in the lingering scent of his and Blair's passion. 

They were both still covered in each other's come, but for now, Jim was content to rest here and savor this moment of perfect peace, utter contentedness. He had everything he wanted, everything he needed, right here next to him, snoring softly away. He marveled that he could be so fortunate, but didn't go much further than that. He didn't think of the future, didn't probe into the effects of this new relationship on their lives; that was Blair's job, and it was one that Jim wouldn't let him do until this weekend was over. Let them deal with reality when they went home--right now, this place in time, these next two days, were for _them_ , for exploring their newfound love and enjoying every minute of it. 

He sighed contentedly. In a little while, he'd wake Blair if he didn't rise on his own, and ask if he was still up for that swim he'd suggested eons ago. Perhaps later tonight, they'd hike out into the woods again, and find a sweet, secluded spot to make love in, or maybe they'd just stay nearby. For the time being, he'd sprawl in this happy tangle of sunshine and Blair, and rejoice in the miracle of a completely still and mostly quiet Sandburg. 

Maybe if he managed to do things right, this perfection could last forever. 

**THE END**

* * *

End 

Convergence at Last by krossero: krossero@yahoo.com  
Author and story notes above.

Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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